Isopia Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be? Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally Slowly she straightened and began to support her own weight. Adrenaline re-flooded her system, and the exhaustion was tempered slightly, if only temporarily. As she stood on her own, the parts of their bodies that had remained in contact became exaggeratedly obvious in her mind. Part of her hip still touched his side, and his nose was now pressed against her shoulder. Something very near to panic now coursed through her veins. It flashed images through her consciousness - images that only encouraged her breathing to become ragged and for her cheeks to flush. She imagined - or rather, that very red, very unsightly and animalistic part of herself imaged that she was... - twisting towards Volterra. Pressing her muzzle against the rocky outcropping of his shoulder, and letting the whiskers on her lips trail their way up his neck. To blow, nay bite, the tender skin around his ears, and to then place her muzzle against his. To breathe him in, and hide them beneath the darkness of her wings. Stop it! [Weren't you the one who told him to act on his impulses? Is hypocrisy now what you're about?] I can't - he's too- [-close?] Another flash. This time her imagination placed Volterra as the instigator. It was his turn to trail his muzzle against her flesh, but he moved in the opposite direction. His touches found the curve of her shoulder, the lengthy and lean expanses of her rib-cage and barrel. The mounds and valleys of her flank and finally her hips. Her tail moving ... though she was taller than him, how would he-- -[oh, he'll manage.] Isopia tried to clear her throat as if that would push the images out of her mind [the images might go, but the warmth remains..]. That voice! Would it ever stop? How long had passed? Long enough that her thoughts had had a physical effect on her body, but not so long that Volterra was trying to snap her out of it, as it were. That was good, that was... Is that how you impress all the boys "Boys? And here I thought you considered yourself a man." Isopia found herself replying immediately, as if her words could be used as some sort of defense mechanism against what was happening in her body. Her tone was far from regular, though perhaps she could excuse that by being out of breath? That her - their - flight was the reason her voice sounded so raspy, so heady? Isopia pivoted away from the point where his muzzle reached her shoulder, but that only succeeded in bringing them more face to face - and, with Iso's exhausted stance and so slightly lowered head - eye to eye. Oh no. He'll think I was drawing attention to his manliness- [you were] -that I was thinking about his- [you were] -or that we, that I- [....YOU WERE.] The demi-goddess' nostrils flared, as she stood, mere inches from the object of her Why hold back? Hadn't she said that to him? Isopia swallowed as the moment stretched on longer and longer. She knew, even as the ground began to swallow up her hooves, enveloping her lower half in stone, that she would yield to whatever he did. And in that moment, she didn't know what she was hoping for. All of her insecurities, her concerns and jealousy about his past lurked in the black-waters of her mind, but for now, those waters were calmed - lightened perhaps - by the well of want, and need, and curious excitement which had seemingly flooded every corridor of her body. While this wasn't a spar, it was decidedly his turn. @Volterra #sorrynotsorry |
[PRIVATE] Red on the ground, bleed out
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02-15-2016, 05:33 PM
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